Wild Boy and the Black Terror (19 page)

20

W
ild Boy could always tell when someone was lying. His eyes homed in on ticks and traits, subconscious gestures that were as clear to him as if the person had hung a sign around their neck declaring their guilt. The way someone’s voice rose or fell by a note as they delivered their deceit, a narrowing of an eye, an almost imperceptible flare of a nostril.

He saw none of these things in Oberstein.

Really, he didn’t need to look. He could hear it in her voice as she told the history of the Black Terror, the weight of emotions pressing on every word. The story was true, or at least she believed it to be.

By the time Oberstein had finished speaking, Wild Boy and Clarissa were gripping each other’s arms. Clarissa’s eyes remained on the black diamond, but she was no longer determined to steal it. Now she was scared of it.

Gideon was affected by the story, too. It seemed almost as if it had physically pained him to hear it. His face had screwed up even tighter, and he gripped his necktie so hard that he gagged.

“So,” Oberstein croaked, her voice weak from her long tale. “You understand how little chance your friend Marcus has of survival. He is marked to die by a demon.”

“No!” Clarissa insisted. Her cry was so loud that the guard raised his pistol. “That can’t be true.”

Oberstein let out a noise like a bark. Wild Boy realized she was laughing.

“Perhaps,” she said, “if you see the stone, you will understand its power. Spencer, bring me my stone.”

Her masked bodyguard shook his head, refusing to leave her side. He whispered something but Wild Boy couldn’t make out the muffled words.

Oberstein raised a hand and stroked Spencer’s mask. “My dear, please. Bring me my stone.”

Still the man hesitated, but he was clearly bound to obey her command. The bones in his knees clicked as he rose. He glared at Wild Boy and Clarissa, his grey eyes swirling like storm clouds. Wild Boy wondered if Spencer had built all the traps around this building. How hard had he worked to protect his mistress? And how deeply did he now despise the people who had broken through his defences?

Spencer strode to the cabinet. With a single swing of a fist, he smashed its glass. Blood spotted his knuckles, but he didn’t seem to feel the pain. He reached into the case and picked up the black diamond.

As he placed the jewel in Oberstein’s hands, light from the fire gleamed off its faces, like a black sun shining darkness. It was a true piece of treasure, a mesmerizing thing. Wild Boy couldn’t imagine how stunning the Black Terror had looked when it was whole.

But the jewel and its history appalled him. He brought the Queen’s card from his pocket, stared at that name in dark ink.
Malphas
. He remembered the eyes of the demon, glowing with darkness just like that stone.

No
, he told himself.
You don’t believe in demons
.

He just had to study the clues, like Marcus had taught him. Someone had poisoned Prendergast and then Marcus and Lady Bentick. He didn’t know how the killer had done it, but he sensed it was the answer he needed to unlock this case.

One of the guards snatched the card from Wild Boy’s hand and eyed it suspiciously, as if it might be a weapon. Ignoring Wild Boy’s protest, he strode across the showroom and tossed the card onto the fire. A puff of dark smoke rose from the flames and drifted past the old jeweller’s face.

Oberstein’s fingers curled around the stone, and a hiss came from her mouth, like one of the pipes releasing steam. It sounded like relief and regret at the same time. “My finest work,” she said. “You see, Wild Boy? You see the power of this stone? It is truly the heart of Malphas.”

The jeweller’s hands sank, as if the stone had suddenly doubled in weight. She sucked in air, like the last breath of someone drowning. Her shaking grew more violent and her seat scraped against the floor.

“Wild Boy?” Clarissa said. “What’s happening to her?”

Behind the jeweller, the two guards also began to shake. One of them collapsed, his pistol firing as it clattered to the floor. Spencer fell back from Oberstein in shock, and Clarissa and Gideon dived to the ground. Chips of plaster sprayed from the ceiling.

Wild Boy didn’t know what was happening, only that this was his chance to get the black diamond. Running to Oberstein, he caught the stone as it slipped from her hands. He shoved the jewel into his coat pocket, but his cry of triumph turned into a shriek of horror.

He stepped back, staring…

Darkness flowed through Oberstein’s veins. Black lines slithered over her arms, up her neck and across her wrinkled face. Her eyes changed too. Suddenly they saw again – nothing real, just the imaginary horrors the terror had unleashed in her mind.

She swatted at invisible swooping creatures. “No!” she shrieked. “Not again, not my eyes. Do not take my eyes!”

“It’s the terror!” Gideon cried. “The demon came for her, just like she said.”

Spencer sank to his knees beside his mistress and enveloped her shaking figure in his huge arms. A tear fell from the bottom of his mask and onto Oberstein’s cobweb hair.

The guards had been struck with the terror too. One was dead, the other lay on the floor beside him, thrashing and drooling.

“How did it happen?” Clarissa gasped, staring at Oberstein. “One moment she was talking and then … how could the terror have got her too?”

“Oberstein!” a voice called from the street. “Open this door.”

“It’s Malphas!” Gideon shrieked. “The demon’s come for me now!”

Wild Boy rushed to the shutters and looked through the slats. Outside, Lucien Grant pounded on the door. Dr Carew was there too, his pale face full of fear. Beyond them were a dozen Black Hats. From the way their hands hovered close to their coats, Wild Boy guessed the men were armed.

“Oberstein!” Lucien called. “We are searching for the fugitives Wild Boy and Clarissa Everett. Send them out or we will force entry.”

Clarissa stood over Spencer. “How do we get out of here?” she said. “All this security, you gotta have an escape.”

Spencer shot out an arm and grabbed her neck. A sound like a tiger’s snarl came from behind his mask as his fingers tightened around her throat.

Wild Boy grabbed the guard’s pistol from the floor and aimed it at Spencer’s masked face. He had no idea how to fire it, but he had to help Clarissa. “Let her go,” he said.

Spencer glowered at him, but his grip on Clarissa’s throat didn’t ease.

“You can still save your boss,” Wild Boy said. “There’s a cure and we can get it. We need it for our friend too, so we’re on the same side. But no one’s gonna get it if we’re caught by them men out there, understand?”

Spencer’s eyes narrowed. His hand relaxed and Clarissa fell from his grip. He looked at Oberstein with eyes full of anguish, then leaned close and whispered something into her ear. He rose and stomped towards the back of the showroom.

Another crash on the door. It was heavier this time, rattling the pipes on the walls.

“They’re using a battering ram,” Gideon said. “They’ll be through in seconds.”

He snatched the pistol from Wild Boy, set the lock to half cock so it was ready to fire. He shoved the weapon into his coat. “Time to go.”

21

T
he bodyguard Spencer unhooked a lantern from the wall and led the way down a steep stone staircase.

The air grew even hotter, drying Wild Boy’s mouth. The walls trembled; warm water dripped on his head. Whatever was in the basement was glowing. He heard groans and gasps and feared for a moment that Spencer was taking them to meet the demon Malphas in hell.

The heat grew more intense as they reached an underground brick chamber. An iron furnace stood against the wall. Amber light leaked from its joints and a dozen pipes rose from the top. Each pipe split in two and split again, crawling like ivy over the basement wall and up through the ceiling. Steam hissed from their joints, and puddles bubbled on the stone floor.

“Is that what powers all the traps around here?” Clarissa asked.

Ignoring her, Spencer stomped to an iron door that was covered with a clockwork confusion of dials, cogs and springs. His hands glowed in the lamplight as he rotated one of the dials a precise number of clicks.

The cogs began to turn. One caught the other, movement spreading across the surface. Wild Boy heard the
clunk, thunk
of sliding locks.

From above, a thundering crash. One of the pipes dislodged from its bracket, spitting steam across the basement.

“It’s the Gentlemen’s battering ram,” Gideon warned. “We gotta hurry.”

Spencer pulled open the vault door and they followed him into the next room. For a moment, Wild Boy forgot all about the Gentlemen upstairs, or even the black diamond in his pocket. He stared at shelves crammed with treasure: crystal peacocks with sapphire-studded tails, silver daggers in jewel-encrusted sheaths, golden sceptres, diamond tiaras.

Clarissa grabbed his arm. “Look.”

Cut into the opposite wall was an entrance to a tunnel. Beams supported the walls; a rail track ran along the floor. An iron mine cart sat in the tunnel’s mouth.

Spencer turned a valve on a gas pipe fixed to the tunnel wall. He lifted what was left of the lantern’s candle – a tiny black stump – and held it to the pipe, causing a streak of fire to rush through the tube. Flames spat from holes along its length, illuminating a long, sloping passage underground.